Strange to say, this fervid adoption of a bastard Hellenism coincided with the re-discovery of the principles at the root of Greek art, and, in consequence, with a renewed appreciation of the best qualities in Hellenic sculpture. Throughout the Renaissance and until the middle of the eighteenth century, Europe did not understand Greek sculpture. Even the best judges rated the “Apollo Belvedere” above the “Theseus” of the Parthenon pediment. A truer standard was advanced by Johann Joachim Winckelmann (murdered 1768). His dictum, “Greek art has been perpetuated by Roman copies,” revealed the error which had vitiated all earlier criticism. Aided by the poet-philosopher Lessing, Winckelmann led men to distinguish between the Roman and the Greek elements in classic sculpture—between the Hellenic and the Hellenistic. Winckelmann’s “History of Greek Art,” published in 1764, enunciated all the great principles we now recognize in the best Greek sculpture—its truth to nature, its almost austere reserve, the preference accorded to the typical as opposed to the particular. The “History of Greek Art” in turn led to Lessing’s “Laocoon” and the magnificent exposition of Hellenism in the works of Goethe. Through these three men the very soul of Greek sculpture lay bare to the later eighteenth-century artists. [Illustration: CANOVA CUPID AND PSYCHE Villa Carlotta, Lake of Como] [Illustration: PAULINE BORGHESE Borghese Gallery, Rome] CANOVA AND THORVALDSEN The first really gifted sculptor to absorb the new revelation and give expression to it in marble and bronze was Antonio Canova. Born in 1757, Canova came of a family of sculptors. In his youth he manifested a facility as a modeller which was sufficient to lead his patron, the Senator Falieri, to make it possible for him to visit Rome. Coming there at the age of twenty-two, Canova encountered the full tide of the ideas enunciated by Winckelmann and his school. Like most successful sculptors, the Venetian was a man of boundless energy. His patrons and rivals in Rome soon became impressed with the belief that Canova was capable of founding a school of sculpture worthy of comparison with those of classic times. Indeed, to-day, it is quite easy to realize the intense enthusiasm aroused by the works of Canova. Such a statue as the beautiful “Cupid and Psyche,” produced in the year 1787, has not yet lost its power to charm. Canova has chosen the moment when Cupid comes to aid the unfortunate girl who has opened the box of Proserpine and has sunk fainting to the earth. It is characteristic of Canova’s sentimental method that he should choose the moment when Psyche, throwing back her head, discovers the god-youth bending over her.